Discworld Recap: The Colour of Magic, The Light Fantastic, Mort

QUARTER TWO BEGINS HERE!

The Colour of Magic, as it turns out, was a thoroughly enjoyable read. Pratchett clearly has as much fun coming up with the physical laws of the Disc as he does developing the characters, and does both with increasing talent. The Colour of Magic flows seamlessly into The Light Fantastic, and Fantastic in and of itself flows a lot better than Colour. In the second book, Pratchett has done away with typical book structure, with no chapters, which lets the work flow freely and without pause.

While reading of the details of the creatures and laws of the Disc are endlessly amusing, Pratchett sacrifices neither plot nor characterization for the sake of world-building. Rincewind develops believably from a shriveling coward to a shriveling coward with a sense of honor, and Twoflower slowly becomes aware that being uninvolved with the plot does not make him invulnerable. The more episodic nature of the first book hinders this only slightly, but once the main plot takes over the characters get thrust more center-stage.

Mort is something a bit different. Rincewind makes a mere token appearance, and Twoflower none at all, while a new character named Mort takes center-stage. He unwittingly becomes Death's apprentice, but Death has other plans for him. And falling in love gives Mort an agenda all his own, one which very nearly tears reality apart. This book is simply outstanding--the plot is more compelling, the characters developed, and Death is actually a fleshed-out, sympathetic character. The plot is loaded with twists, turns, and clever wordplay, as well as--like the previous two--a fairly satirical and always interesting look at how fantasy works from a (slightly more) logical standpoint.

All three are great reads and highly recommended.

The Colour of Magic

I've just started this book. It's by Terry Pratchett, who I've heard wonderful things about. I really like his Discworld series, so I am trying to read it from the beginning, starting with this book. It's a tad hard to follow, and really not much like his more recent books (although his fondness for long, rambling footnotes makes an early appearence, to explain the geography of the Disc. It's on the back of four giant elephants, which in turn are marching across the back of a gaint turtle. It's really just that sort of book.) Still, it's rather clever, and Rincewind's in it, so I'm enjoying it so far. On that note, I can't seem to find it at the moment...

Unwind

Unwind by Neal Shusterman is a good book. It was a tad more disturbing than I was expecting from the guy who wrote The Schwa Was Here, but still a great read with strong characterization. Though it is something of a science-fiction book, none of it feels contrived and the situations and perils feel genuine. You actually get attached to the characters, even the perceived villains, and there are a few unexpected deaths that heighten the drama while at the same time not undermining the human value of those who die. All in all, it's a good book and I'd recommend it to anyone who likes a good deal of heart with a healthy dose of suspense.

And Another Thing...: Hitchhiker's Guide, Book 6/3

It's been sixteen years since Arthur Dent, Ford Prefect, Trillian Astra and Random Dent were vaporized, turned into carbon particles and sent drifting through space for the upteenth and final time.

Or so it was thought.

The above fact has a little something to do with the fact that the creator of the aforementioned characters, Douglas Noel Adams, died a death that was slightly less dramatic about nine years ago, without getting the chance to bring them back from oblivion as he had wanted to.

Now, it seems another man, Eoin Colfer, has done the deed for him.

There are a few things that are a tad off in his installment, such as the usage of "frood" as a verb and the capitalization of the word zark, but these things have no baring on the novel's literary merit or how well it fits in with the rest of the Hitchhiker's trilogy--the flamboyantly random and satirical first volume; the even more random and satirical Restaurant at the End of the Universe; the epic Life, The Universe and Everything; the uplifting and humorous So Long, And Thanks For All the Fish; and the darkly humorous and occasionally depressing Mostly Harmless.

First off, it seemed that this volume existed solely to bring our heroes back from the dead, which is probably entirely related to the fact that this volume existed solely to bring our heroes back from the dead. And it does--not by acknowledging, as previous books have done, the existence of the afterlife and reincarnation in this universe, but rather with a deus ex machina that would've made the softest sci-fi writer blush. Apparently, the very machine sent to destroy them obeyed Random's wish for a better life before the Earth goes foom, and after keeping them in an alternate, wish-fulfilment reality for half a century it brings them back to the to the moment of Earth's destruction due to its battery dying. Just as they're about to die again, Zaphod shows up to save them. Unfortunately, he can't do jack squat, and just as it looks like all is lost Wowbagger the Infinitely Prolonged shows up, and all is saved.

What follows is a romp through space-time to save some backwater human space colony from Vogon distruction, some romance, a bit of angst, the return of Thunder-God Thor, and a little character development. Arthur, Ford and Trillian are written up to standard, although as far as Zaphod and Random go it seems Colfer needed a little time to find his footing. The Guide is still very much a major player, with more entries than we've seen for the past three installments. In fact, Colfer's better at weaving them in than Adams ever was. As time went by, the books became more literary than literate, and in that respect Colfer has definitely succeeded.

So, how does the book overall fall in the pantheon of Hitchhiker's? It's not as bitingly satirical as Resteraunt, although it definitely makes a few points on religion and society Adams would've liked. This volume is a tad more epic than Everything, and the mood is less defined than in Fish or Harmless. Overall, it's not nearly as good as any of them. And yet is still throughs in a few good one-liners, it flows a lot better than the earlier books, and the ending is so ambigious it practically begs for a seventh installment. I guess what says the most about And Another Thing is that a seventh book might not be so bad.

Go Ask Alice

...when she’s ten feet tall...and if you...go chasing rabbits...

Sorry about that. I'm taking a decidedly less formal tone for this post, because I feel it's the best way to address this book. When I'm done, I'm sure you'll agree that the Jefferson Airplane song is much better than the book that takes its name.

This book is about a girl who starts hanging out with stoners because she has straight hair (and therefore looks like a hippie), accidentally starts taking drugs, goes on and off them multiple times, quits for good, almost gets roped in by stoners who try to keep her in their group as though it was a cult, accurately describes in her diary the experience of thinking worms are eating her alive while her fingers gradually become barely usable, and dies about six months after swearing off drugs for the final time and the only one that actually sticks. The protagonist, "Alice", is at first enjoys being on drugs, goes on and off them, falls in and out of love, runs away from home, becomes a sexual deviant, starts wallowing in self-pity, and decides that her parents don't deserve her before finding acceptance and the road to recovery.

This alone is implausible enough, but then I told my sister this story. She was amazed, because she had recently read a book called Almost Lost: The True Story of an Anonymous Teenager's Life on the Streets, about a kid named Sam, who at first enjoys being on drugs, goes on and off them, falls in and out of love, runs away from home, becomes a sexual deviant, starts wallowing in self-pity, and decides that her parents don't deserve him before finding acceptance and the road to recovery.

Wow.

Further investigation revealed that both of these books were "edited" by a woman named Beatrice Sparks, who apparently is a child physiologist who published these and other "diaries" and "studies" based on her work with young children, and asserted that they were true. Although Alice is now listed in libraries as a work of fiction (Sparks admitted to mixing and matching patient stories to put it together), her other works are still considered non-fiction and Alice is still sold in bookstores as such. This is especially jarring as all but two of the alleged journals allegedly edited by here have Sparks listed as the sole author in the US Copyright Offices.

However, no discover shocked me as much as the following segment from a Wikipedia entry (which is backed up by this article):

In 1973, Marcella Barrett, a Pleasant Grove, Utah woman whose son Alden had committed suicide at the age of 16, read a newspaper interview with Sparks and became convinced that she was the right person to bring Alden's diary to the public. The result was Jay's Journal, which tells the story of a teenage boy drawn into Satanism. Barrett's family were horrified by the book. They insisted that Alden had never been involved with the occult and that Sparks had used only 21 entries from his journal (out of 212 supposed entries that appeared in the finished book).

Wow. Just wow. There's also A Place in the Sun: The Truth Behind Jay's Journal, which tells the true story. Not to mention that the details of Barrett's cult do not match up with the actual practices of any existing Satanic cult.

I could go on and on about the atrocities this woman has committed, such as claiming to be a child physiatrist who spoke to many of her subjects and providing no evidence she even has a doctorate. But I feel that, seeing as I read this book for entertainment and not preachy morals, I should say something about its literary merit and how much I enjoyed it. It has none, and I didn't.

The story came off as preachy, poorly written, unrealistic and vaguely predictable (she quits drugs halfway through, so obviously she falls off the wagon or else the rest of the book has no substance). Alice as a character is vaguely bi-polar and impossible to relate to, and her morals and blind condemnation of the 1970s peace movement and homosexuality piss me off (she breaks up with her boyfriend not because he cheated on her, but because she cheated on him with a guy, and calls anti-Vietnam protesters "misled" and "militant", probably because Sparks admittedly felt similarly about these topics.) Moreover, the idea that Alice would both remember enough about her drug-induced hallucinations to write them down, and even be able to write about a bad trip as it's inadvertently causing her fingers to become bloodied and useless, is implausible in and of itself.

In short, not only does this book fail in pretending to be fact, it epically fails at being realistic fiction. I would not recommend it to anyone, not even the author.

Epilogue

Three weeks after resolving never to recommend this book to anyone, the author of this blog post died. Police suspect Beatrice Sparks pushed him off a cliff. This is implausable, but hey, so is dying of a drug overdose after being sober for half a year.

Waiting for Godot

A play in which two men wait by a tree for a man named Godot they think will better their fortune. And talk.



That's it, really, as far as plot goes.


Except, of course, that Vladimir and Estragon--our protagonists--are implied to be waiting for him every day. They're not sure if they're at the right place, they're not sure if they've got the time right, they're not even sure who Godot is. But they wait, nevertheless.


Incredibly funny, and with long bouts of conversation and nonsense. However, read deeper and there's clearly something else going on here. This is a story of fate, of optimism versus pessimism, of the endless tedium of it all, about challenging the way we perceive the world, about mixing things up on occasion, all depending on how you read it. We know nothing about these characters outside of the two days we spend with them, and they're wide open for interpretation, especially because the author--Samuel Beckett--won't let on anything besides the fact that Godot is not a metaphor for God and the play for faith. (He later remarked that he regretted naming the titular character as such.)


So yeah, sure, this could be about a man and his Alzheimer's-riddled friend sitting by a tree talking about how disgusting carrots are and whether or not Jesus saved a repentant thief before his crucifixion. But I--and anyone who's reviewed this thing--think there's something deeper here. This play is like a treasure chest--the outside's cool to look at, but opening it up is the great part.

Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead

In Shakespeare's Hamlet, Hamlet's uncle brings in two of Hamlet's closest friends to find out why Hamlet is now insane. These two guys are in two scenes, sent to England to deliver Hamlet and and have him killed, and the next we hear of them--mere moments before the end--is that there was a slight mix-up and that Hamlet's friends were killed instead.

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But who are these guys? Are they really just a couple of interchangeable companions for Hamlet to ramble to for a couple of scenes? Or is there something more to them, something deeper?

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This play answers both questions with a resounding "yes." Guildenstern is contemplative, philosophical, and curious as to life's inner workings; his friend Rosencrantz is quite satisfied to leave things be. However, playwright Tom Stoppard doesn't delve any deeper into the characters than their personalities. Shakespeare left their pasts ambiguous outside of the duo being childhood friends of Hamlet's, but Stoppard makes even that ambiguous--"Ros" and "Guil" lack even the most basic memories of their past, where they're going or why they're there. They merely know that they are spying on Hamlet on behalf of his uncle, and even that basic fact is thrown into doubt.

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Filled with subtle wit and a stunning use of language which is almost, but not quite (thank God) Shakespearean, Ros & Guil Are Dead is a brilliantly chilling take on the nature of the past and human memory as well as dwelling on fate and other philosophical issues. Not recommended for someone without basic knowlege of the plot of Hamlet.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series

An incredible work of satire, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series is a hysterical commentary on government, religion, philosophy, and modern technology. But even if you don't pick up on it, the story is engaging, with interesting characters and setups and a wit sharp enough to put its author, Douglas Adams, in a class of his own.

Our story begins with Arthur Dent. He is a 5'8" ape descendant who enjoys nothing more than a bit of peace and quiet and a good cup of tea. He wakes up one morning, horribly hung over, to discover the reason he was drunk the previous night--the town council failed to inform him that his house is about to be demolished to make way for a bypass that morning. In an act of protest, Arthur lays in front of the bulldozers to block their path.

But that's the least of his problems.

Ford Prefect, Arthur's closest friend for ten years, receives word that the Earth itself is about to be demolished to make way for a hyperspace expressway. How does he find this out? Well, it turns out Ford is actually an alien from the planet Betelgeuse (which explains his name) and a researcher for a wholly remarkable book called The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. This little intergalactic radio-receptor thing he has told him that a Vogon constructor fleet is coming and...are you confused? Not as confused as Arthur is. But it doesn't matter, they've only got twenty minutes, and so Ford grabs Arthur and quickly hitches a ride of the face of the planet. What follows is a freewheeling trip through time and space, with Ford serving as the Virgil to Arthur's Dante and the Guide answering any further questions. Along the way, they meet Zaphod Beeblebrox, the two-headed, three-armed, vaguely-hippie-like President of the Galaxy, and his girlfriend Trillian; Marvin, a cynical, depressed android; a mind that got a devorce from his body; a group of radicals bent on destroying the Universe; a man who tells the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth; Thor, the Norse God of Thunder; and the stupid, bureaucratic Vogons amongst other peoples, computers and species.

Most satirical or even slightly "intelligent" works sacrifice characterization and plot to whatever morals or ideas the author is preaching. Hitchhiker's does no such thing. The characters are vibrant and three-dimensional (well, the important ones are anyway) and what vaguely constitutes a plot is only occasionally disturbed by some important piece of information courtesy of The Guide--and those tend to be the funnier bits.

More importantly, though, is that the book doesn't preach. If you catch the messages woven in, then great--the book is working on a higher level. But if, for example, the bit about how an internal climate control system inadvertently killed the people in the building using it by arrogantly refusing to open the windows doesn't deliver the intended message about the supposed infallibility of modern technology, it doesn't stop you from laughing at the bit. In fact, if you don't know the messages are there it's nearly impossible to catch on the first read, and therefore appeals both to intellectuals (that is, the few that enjoy humor) and those looking for a light read.

As for the difficultly level--the five books combined are about the length of one-and-a-half Harry Potter books, and the language is pretty low-key with the bigger words being easy to figure out in context. Oh, and continuity is a big thing. These books don't make sense out of order. They are:

1. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
2. The Restaurant at the End of the Universe
3. Life, the Universe, and Everything
4. So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish
5. Mostly Harmless

All five and a bonus short story ("Young Zaphod Plays it Safe") are available as one big volume entitled The Ultimate Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, pictured above. The books started out as a radio series, so if you're fine with a big chunk of material having been moved around you can listen to those if reading's not your thing. Under no condition should you see the movie.